


Nessa Would

by Irhaboggles



Category: Wicked - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Angst, Bitterness, Elphie, Favoritism, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Jealousy, Nessarose, Oz - Freeform, Sister - Freeform, Wicked - Freeform, daughter - Freeform, father - Freeform, frex, nessa - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irhaboggles/pseuds/Irhaboggles
Summary: Rebellious, disagreeable Elphaba would never do anything. Or at least, she would never do anything right. But Nessa would. Nessa always would. And that's why Frex would always like her more. It should've been simple and obvious. But still, Elphaba seethed with jealousy and hurt. She wasn't always able to just smile it off. But Nessa would. Nessa always would.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Nessa Would

"Nessa would," Frex replied shortly, crossing his arms and giving his eldest a very stern, cold glare.

"Well, in case you've forgotten again, I'm not Nessa," Elphaba deadpanned back, face and voice frighteningly empty and apathetic. Frex gave a disgusted and irritated scoff, but he said nothing more. He knew it was pointless to try to talk to the green-skinned girl. She was so painfully stubborn! He was sure he'd find more amicable, agreeable company in the dirt below his feet than he would in his eldest daughter.

With this thought in his head, he uncrossed his arms and turned away, addressing Elphaba no more. For a moment, anger and hurt flashed in Elphaba's eyes, that Frex would give up so easily and revert to ignoring her rather than continuing to engage her. But only a second later, she mirrored his movements and let out a scoff of her own before turning her back on him just as he had done to her.

Such occurrences were common in the Thropp family. It would always start the same, Frex addressing something Elphaba said or did (or didn't say or do) and the closing line would always be the same: "Nessa would."

Whether it had to do with attending church services, or helping emotionally support the family, or being more friendly and approachable or being less argumentative and cold, it didn't really matter. It always went the same way. Frex would broach the topic and chide Elphaba for some reason or another. She'd reply with some flippant, impetuous excuse or vague remark, chiding him in return. She would insist that there was some very good reason for why she did, or didn't, do something, to which Frex would always reply: "Nessa would."

And that would signal the close to their every argument. After all, there wasn't really much Elphaba could say to that other than, "But I'm not Nessa." Or any variation thereof, which she always did. In fact, in a move of exceptionally bold and tongue-in-cheek humor, Elphaba had once attended a church event and, on her designated nametag, wrote her name in bold before writing "Not Nessa" underneath. As expected, her father chided her no less than roughly six times that day, each interaction ending with the usual.

"Elphaba! What is the meaning of this?" he had hissed at her when he first got a closer look at her nametag.

"I was named after Saint Aelphaba of the Waterfall," Elphaba had replied calmly, but her father had turned as red as a ruby in his anger.

"No!" he hissed, barely concealing a snarl from the public. "What is the meaning of what you wrote _underneath_ your name?!"

"Oh, just making sure no one mixes us up," Elphaba gave him an aloof shrug. Frex looked at her in outrage, as if she'd gone mad. Even a brainless scarecrow would never mix up the tragically beautiful wheelchair-bound Nessarose with the beautifully tragic asparagus named Elphaba.

And the two continued to argue until Elphaba finally grew impatient.

"I'm not going to _just_ putmy first name down!" she said. "Besides, what I did wasn't inappropriate!"

"Nessa would!" Frex had snapped back. Then Elphaba only gave him a pitying look, shaking her head before simply walking away without even bothering to say her usual closing line. But why would she? It was inscribed right there on her nametag, underneath her _real_ name. But apparently, nobody had told Frex that. (And several more incidents followed that one, but that was the most noteworthy and unique. The rest were all the usual. Elphaba wasn't being nice or polite. Elphaba wasn't being sweet or friendly. Elphaba wasn't being respectful or reverent. Elphaba wasn't helping out. But Nessa would. But Nessa would. But Elphaba wasn't Nessa…

But Elphaba hadn't just done this as a passive-aggressive attack on Frex. It really did sting, it really did cut her to the bone, to constantly hear him talk about Nessa. Always, all the time, it was Nessa. Whether Nessa was present or not, it was still always about her. Nessa this. Nessa that. Nessa is better than Elphaba. Elphaba is worse than Nessa. Why can't Elphaba more like Nessa? And less like herself… Why couldn't Elphaba have been Nessa? Or better yet, why couldn't Nessa have been Elphaba? Though preferably without the green skin…

It used to be a passing irritation, like a fly buzzing in someone's ear. Elphaba would shake her head in annoyance that all Frex ever did was talk about Nessa, even when he was talking to/about Elphaba. But then that idle frustration and exasperation grew deeper and darker. It switched into anger. Genuine bitterness that Frex never seemed to give a thought to his older daughter. Didn't he realize that Elphaba was not Nessa? Didn't he know how much it hurt to always be compared to her? To always think she was the worse sister? And that she could never ever live up to her? Apparently not… Because the constant stream of "Nessa would" continued to fall from Frex's lips every single day.

Even in conversations totally unrelated to either sister, Nessa would worm her way into the conversation. One day, Frex had simply been admiring the garden around their house. It had grown unusually well that year and it actually looked quite lovely. For once in all their time in Quadling Country, their property looked respectable.

"Nessa would love this!" Frex had said. "She always did have such a keen eye for beauty and such a soft spot for the flowers! Oh, but I suppose it makes sense, given how she was named, after all!" Frex chuckled to himself, in a genuinely good mood. He totally missed the way Elphaba's lips tightened and eyes narrowed. But in his current state, she could've screamed out her pain and frustration and he still wouldn't have noticed her any more than he might've noticed a tiny gnat.

But even though Frex was blissfully unaware, Elphaba saw things all too well, painfully and hideously clear. The favoritism could've been a shard of stained glass for how sharp and obvious it was to her. And it felt just as painful as one. Not a single conversation could pass without Nessa being mentioned. Elphaba was forever reminded of, and tormented by, the fact that Frex obviously thought she was better and would've gladly embraced it if Elphaba suddenly turned into a Nessa clone and lost all semblance of herself as Elphaba.

But what hurt most of all wasn't just Frex's disregard for her, or his favor for Nessa. It was just that it was such an impossible goal! What was he asking of her? To be more like Nessa? She was trying her darndest! For all the fights she and her father got into, Elphaba was a very dutiful daughter who did everything that was asked of her (so long as it was within reason) and she played her part in the family lineup. It was Nessa who seldom did anything, at least not without being greatly waited upon, since she had Frex wrapped impossibly well around her dainty little fingers. But it was Elphaba who was constantly led to believe that Nessa was some pinnacle of perfection that she should strive to reach, even though Frex had already made it clear that no matter how hard she tried, she'd never get there.

How was that for fair? A lost cause. An impossible goal. And yet still Frex let it hang over Elphaba like a ghost. Even though he would paradoxically imply that Elphaba could never hope to live up to Nessa, he would throw "subtle" hints that he would like her more if she were more like Nessa. Nessa this, Nessa that. Nessa does everything perfectly and she makes me so happy. Nessa is beauty, Nessa is grace. Nessa is love, Nessa is life. There isn't much to say about Elphaba. She's… passable. But she's just a dime-a-dozen. Nessa is the special one. She's the one worth all the attention and affection. Nessa is perfect. No one could compare. She was divinity and blessing incarnate, a panacea to all the world's woes, the pinnacle of humanity. Yes, Elphaba had some… good sides… but she was just… her. Nice, but… nothing more. Just… her…

And it stung. Sweet Oz it stung. Shame, anger, hurt, unfairness. It swirled inside Elphaba like a toddler throwing a tantrum. And some days, she wanted to do exactly that. She wanted to scream and cry, to throw herself on the ground and pound at the floor until someone came along to pacify her. But she knew in her heart that it would never work! That sort of behavior was only cute or endearing if Nessa did it. But if Elphaba were to try? People would scoff, they would laugh! Or they would turn away in disgust and disdain. It was only cute if Nessa did it.

Nessa could talk about her passion, and it was considered endearing and intelligent. Elphaba, meanwhile, would be branded as loud and obnoxious. Nessa could croon for affection and would be labeled as a cuddly and sweet little girl. Elphaba could reach out for affection and be accused of attention-seeking behavior. Or being unhealthily clingy and dependent. Nessa could smile and the entire world would get a little brighter. Elphaba could smile and mirrors would shatter. Nessa could laugh and everyone else would laugh with her. Elphaba could laugh and everyone else would only stare in disgust, amusement or confusion. If Nessa did a kind deed or helped someone out, she was as holy and selfless as the Unnamed God himself. But if Elphaba did a kind deed or helped someone out, that was just because it was what was expected of her. Nothing special or worthy of praise. Just Elphaba being Elphaba. But if Nessa did it, it was an angelic trait the world was so blessed to bear witness to.

They could do the same exact thing, but while Nessa would be met with praise and awe, Elphaba would be met with disgust or disdain, if she was met with anything at all. And Elphaba hated it. And she hated being reminded of it. She hated thinking that every trait she had was somehow a flaw (or just a neutral trait) while every trait Nessa had was an Oz-send. Nessa was nice and had a cute, quirky little trait? Beautiful! But for Elphaba, that would be called "being barebones decent, and having an annoying little "oddity" about her." Nessa's whining was cute? Elphaba's was repulsive, annoying and immature. Nessa's joy was cute? Elphaba's was… awkward, and not necessarily enjoyable to look at. (Who'd want to see a scrunched up green face that looked like a rotted head of lettuce rather than an adorable scrunch of a pale, dainty little nose?)

But because Frex seemed incapable of going more than five seconds without mentioning Nessa (or some "wonderful" thing about her), Elphaba was never allowed to forget just who she was and just who she was "up against". Just once in her life, she wanted _one_ conversation from Frex that didn't somehow involve Nessa, but she might as well have been asking rubies to turn into emeralds for all the realism _that_ desire held. There were just too many good things to talk about when it came to Nessa. But with Elphaba, there wasn't any value or interest there at all.

But as Elphaba stood off to the side, on her own again, she watched Nessa basking in the praise of Frex and several of his other preacher friends. As happy as they all looked, Elphaba was curious. Was it really as good as it looked? Surely there was something more lurking just below the surface. Was _Nessa_ as happy as she seemed? Did she actually care about any of them? Including Frex? Sure, she liked the attention he lavished on her, but Elphaba had come to realize that if he was not around, she didn't seem to give him a single thought. Instead, Elphaba became her new nanny until he could come back.

There was something painful about that, realizing that Elphaba existed to be little more than entertainment and filler for someone until the _real_ object of their desire could return, but it was a strange and surprising observation that despite all of her doting and adoring words, Nessa didn't seem to think much of Frex if he wasn't around to swaddle her in love and affection. Did she truly care for him, then? Or was this where she and Elphaba differed again? Because even though Elphaba did fight with Frex a lot, she at least gave him thought when he was away, wondering how he was and what he was doing and when he'd be back and how she'd need to fill the hole his absence would leave them with.

What would the old man think if he knew that Elphaba thought more about him than Nessa did? What would he feel if he were to learn that his special little girl didn't really think about him unless he was in her direct vicinity? Would he be hurt, sad, or betrayed? Would he be angry or disgusted? How painful it would be for him to realize that the daughter whose love he craved the most was the daughter whose love he had less of.

And that the daughter he wished he never had would some day be the only one he had left. Elphaba could already sense it, if it so suited her, Nessa would leave Frex without a second glance. He'd be left alone, with only loyal Elphaba as his one remaining companion. What a bitter, ironic Hell that would be for both of them. But it almost made the favoritism he showed Nessa a little bit more bearable. Almost…

Because was any of this really true? Or was Elphaba's fraying mental health grasping at straws in hopes of finding something, _anything_ , to help keep her afloat, even if it was an obvious fantasy? The only thing that kept Elphaba going anymore was the thought that, one day, she would be all that Frex had left, and she would get to relish in his despair and dismay.

_And at least I'm not like Nessa,_ Elphaba thought to herself as she continued to eye the callous and shallow girl, basking in the limelight only because she liked its warmth and shine. For the first time in her life, Elphaba felt no envy. Only pity, disgust and a strange sort of fear and despair. She wasn't scared or upset, not for herself or anyone else, but there was something saddening to think that underneath all of this beauty, nothing but hollowness existed in Nessa, and that _Elphaba_ was (at least in some way) the "better" sister.

A strange, twisted, ironic reward. Elphaba finally came to see that even if Nessa was the favored sister, she was not necessarily the better or happier or more moral sister. It wasn't the reassure Elphaba had wanted, per se, but her fraying mind took it all in stride anyway. Because while Elphaba would some day walk her own path, alone but free, Nessa would remain bound by her vices. Elphaba wouldn't let her jealousy and resentment consume her life. But Nessa would.


End file.
